“Go on. I saw how hungry you were yesterday.”
I raise my eyes to his and try to see the catch, but my stomach once again betrays me, and I take a roll and start to pull it apart. Fenix sits, casually leaning back in his chair, slicing an apple with a knife.
“Don’t think about it. You’re not quick enough, or strong enough.” He nods at me and waves the knife in his hand.
I dip my eyes back to my food and continue to eat.
“You look rested, so I assume you slept well.”
“Some.” I don’t elaborate.
“Ah, still not wanting to talk.”
“I was happy to talk last night. It was you who didn’t like my choice of questions.”
“Fine. Let’s start fresh. Together.” He lifts a ceramic water jug and fills my cup. “Cheers.” He puts the knife down and lifts his own cup in the gesture.
I eye mine, then his. He gets the message and rolls his eyes before taking a large gulp. His task complete, I move my cup, and we knock them together.
“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I sip the water, and as the cool liquid hits my lips, I’m reminded of my thirst. Slowly, I drain the contents, and I’m met with Fenix’s smile as I set the cup back down.
“Do you know about Novandia?” he asks.
I could lie, but right now, there doesn’t seem to be any obvious advantage to that, save annoying my so-calledbrotherfurther. The hard reality is that for him to start telling the truth and trusting me, I need to give him something in return.
“He’s Aslendrix’s brother. The sun god.”
“You were told some things, then.”
“And you were told everything, by the sounds of what you’ve said so far. Why don’t you share some of your knowledge,Brother?”
“All of my wisdom is yours.” He rocks back in his chair. “But you have to ask for it.”
“Until you decide not to share? I’m sure I asked you questions last night.” My eyes stray to the table with the wealth of information scattered about.
“Have a look. I already know you did when you took a bath. You helped yourself to my clothes. No way you’d leave the rest of the information untouched,” he scoffs, then goes back to slicing his apple.
I’m not going to wait to be told again. I stand, shoving the chair back and cringing at the screech it makes against the wooden floor.
I survey the maps, the information, and try to pull it together with what I remember from Orion’s office, but there aren’t helpful keys or indicators like in the pages of the books we studied.
As I creep around the desk, committing what I can to memory, the questions I want to ask about my parents grow heavy, weighing me down, intruding on every thought in my mind. But I’m still not ready to open that box and face all that might be inside.
“Why do people in Estereah not know about Kirrasia—about magic? And why do the Kirrians proclaim peace, yet have an army, which you seem to have, too?” I choose my question, hoping for insight and to at least appease Fenix enough that he’ll grant me an answer rather than shove me out of the cabin.
“There is a lot I can’t tell you. The why, for instance, might be more useful if directed at the Maker.”
“You know the Maker?” My head snaps up to meet his pale green eyes.
“No. I was kept from Kirrasia. That, at least, we share, Sister. At least until recently. My education has been crafted in a different light.”
“Stop with the riddles, Fenix.”
“If I tell you, will you call me Fen?”
Stars, Ten.I’m thrown back to the night under the stars when he was keeping things from me, but asked me to call him by his shortened name because we were friends.
